Consistency

When you asked me to be 
a part of your future, still, 
you spoke to my softness. 

When I pointed out you were
still asking for more from me,
I reminded you of my strength. 

Solemate

The life etched into the palms of my two hands 
once told a psychic that I would fall in love. 
Amidst the cacophony of a community living, 
she learned that I had fallen, crumbled, that
in the following years I would rise from dust. 
I poured my heart out through those lines...

this one meant I would count in decades not years, 
this one meant I drowned in a past life, and
that one meant I would find my soulmate. 

... So, I searched, looked for truth, tore walls down,
remained quietly alert, drove while still fiddling
with a radio dial until I found just the right song.
I shared the ride with someone, they exited quickly.
And I forgot my lover, my partner, my friend, 
That soulmate was me all along, and I just...

had not quite met her yet. 

Love: a Eulogy

Nature and nurture
are equally voracious 
lovers in the night.

Checking In

I should have asked if

you loved me when I told you 
all of me was yours. 

Where to Even Begin

I tried looking for you in the corners of my apartment.

I made a list of what I found:

- 1,000 ear plugs, many of which seemed to grow legs and wander around 
- roughly 7 polaroids of you caught off guard, moments when you were the most beautiful to me 
- 2 XL shirts, snatched from a friend just in case you needed them 
- 2 pieces of jewelry, both selected by you with such thought and care that they don't burn my skin but burn my heart to touch
- 1 sweater you let me borrow to keep me warm, I loved how it smelled like you
- 1 pair of socks with eggs on them; a gift from a friend, a nod to my affection 
- 1 painting purchased only 2 months ago... had I known then that the subject's gaze would no longer remind me of strength and beauty but instead heartbreak and loss would I have still loved it?
- 1 photo from that same trip which may prove to be too hard to keep... all I can remember is how you kissed me in those warm waters, our late night walks, how distinctly at ease I was around you
- and countless memories of conversations of laughs of naps of meals of realizing that even if I scrubbed the earth of these items my mind and heart would still betray me by things found when I remembered I still needed to turn inwards and try and fail to gather you up there too. 

I can't stop writing.

Wonder Woman had 

a shield, a lasso, a plane -
I only have words. 

Love Languages

Words flow like water... merciless, focused, quiet. Facades are washed clean.

Remain soft and kind.  Lift others alongside you in worlds made of stone.

Medical Breakthrough Requested, Please

With snake bites they instruct you to draw the poison out. 

It's amazing how we suffer from love and yet
I cannot find a cure for these symptoms:

- a weight on my chest, an invisible cloak making it difficult to catch a full breath
- an inability of catching a full breath, as if the air quality has become less sweet
- a sweetness now alluding me, I can hear the salt pouring out of my mouth, 
the bitter taste of "yes, it's over" of "no, I don't understand" and "I miss him. I am in pain."
- and a pain, an understanding of potential lost, an overwhelming feeling of was this not, was this not what I thought it was? Did he not see what I saw? Did he not feel what I felt? Where did I go so incredibly wrong.

How do you draw out love when it's not a poison,
when it's not the blood pumping through your heart
but the very real pushes and pulls of the universe that
power you through fair weather and torrential down pours.

I don't need a doctor, I demand affordable healthcare, a cure, 
one I can pass out to the destruction love leaves in its wake, 
to the people who need it the most - the ones too overwhelmed 
to know they can last the course, to know what they have when they had it. 

Knocked Out

I miss your long graceful curves

stretched out beside me while we slept.
You use to do this thing... well several things...

... where you'd replace my body 
pulsing with energy and with heat
with the cool side of a static throw pillow. 
It was often that dark blue one, 
New York with a heart - do you remember?

You would bend the crooks of your elbows,
collapse your hands on top of one another. 
At first I thought you were praying, in the way 
that small children pray to the present, the future,
to sunshine on grass and moonlight on flowers.

Now, well, now I reckon those were the hands of
a boxer, a champion, a heavyweight skilled in
not protecting us from monsters and nightmares
but in fighting me off, fighting us off, from your dreams.

Modern Love

I know what I deserve...

You did not need to tell me. 
In a sense, it was an insult
To my mind
My body
My soul. 

... but I wanted you. 

9/20/17

You asked me if I believed in soulmates once and I said no. The truth is at one point I did, at another point I didn't, sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. 

My feelings for you make these types of conversations nerve-wracking. 

What I do believe in is that love is a feeling and love is a choice. It's the butterflies and the excitement and the nerves, it's the choice to lean in and explore all of it. 

It's the choice to nurture that feeling into a partnership. 

I want to be with someone who wants to be with me, not just through the easy times but through obstacles, through the unknown, through the uncertainty, because I'm looking for a marathon not a sprint. 

I hear how painful things were for you before, and I would do anything to take away that experience, to take away that hurt, 

If I could do the same for my own scars, I would. 

But, that's not how life works. 

And this is a new path forward, not the past repeating itself.

...

Within Palace Walls

Tongue split open from

new wounds and salvaged old scars.
Words can harm and soothe.  

Pit stops and red lights.

It's the little things

like big spoons, belting old songs
that nurture our love. 

Au Naturel

Learn to forgive, learn to let go
you are lighting and thunder,

you are the sun and the moon and the stars, 
and you are the fields of soft flowers that always stretch 
themselves to grow up to the sky.
you are power and grace and your humanity is gorgeous. 

This PussyCat Bites Back.

Little lion tails

swirl while the march continues
to subtle drum beats.

A Reflection on Cycles

I spent too long giving too much to someone who felt to push herself up she needed to pull others down, that there was a scarcity of room on the stage, that our voices weren't more beautiful as a chorus than they were as floating notes in the wind. 

I spent too long casting tears into an ocean of silence so deafening that it seemed to rationalize and justify her behavior, surviving it by treading water and cherishing the dolphins and sunshine that visited, kept me company, invited me to dance. 

It became a lesson in investment, a lesson in qualifying which risks are worth taking, which dividends are the most rewarding. I picked up my spirit, recast my chips on a blackjack table with rules I understood. 

And watched. 

And waited.